A Visit From The Past
by Sometimesahero
Summary: A dead junkie. Just an ordinary, if not boring case for Sherlock Holmes. Nothing he would normally accept to work on but then this case suddenly brings back his past. The past he taught he had left behind forever. And suddenly Sherlock realizes that suppress and delete memories is not always the way to cope with things.
1. Chapter 1

Hi there! Thank you for clicking on my story. This is my first story and I am happy about every feedback I can get. I have been writing this story for quiet a while just for myself but finally had the confidence to upload it. Unfortunately English is not my first language. I already want to apologize for all my mistakes. But now: Enjoy!

I do not own any character from the BBC Show Sherlock.

All started as an ordinary day in the life of Sherlock Holmes and Dr John Watson. In the morning they had seen some clients searching for their help but Sherlock had turned down every single one of them. None of the presented cases had something that could caught his attention. They were just to ordinary and ordinary, to Sherlock Holmes at least, meant boring.

John still going over the numerous pleading Emails from potential clients tried to get his interest in a case, but nothing would satisfy the needs of the consulting detective. So he had to keep himself busy otherwise. He was totally lost in one of his experiment with the eyes Molly had kindly given to him yesterday when his phone started buzzing in his pocket. Quickly he reached in the pocket of his trousers to find a text from Lestrade.

I need you to see a body at Bart's- GL

„Something interesting?" asked John hopefully looking up from his Laptop screen.

„ I don't know yet, but we need to go to Bart's." replied Sherlock while already putting on this coat and scarf. John got up and out the door they were, getting a cab to Barts.

Sherlock almost jumped out of the cab when they reached the hospital. The prospect of a potential murder had helped to lift his mood. The two men entered to hospital and went straight down to the morgue.

Molly was busy doing some paperwork when the door opened and the two familiar figures entered the morgue. As soon as she saw his dark curls and iceblue eyes her heart started to beat faster. She hated that after all those years he had still that effect on her. It always made her feel like she was not the educated grown women she was but the shy teenage girl she hoped to have left behind years ago.

„Hello Molly" John greeted her warmly. „Hi" she replied with a smile at both of them. „How is Mary?" Molly asked John but before he could answer Sherlock cut him of. „ No time to loose with your verbiage, we have a case. Lestrade sent us here her said you have a body he wants me to see. Please tell me it's something interesting. Today was only a waste of time so far."

„I hate to disappoint you but I don't think this is an extraordinary case." Molly said moving over to the table in the middle of the room and removing the covering of the body. „Male,32, found dead in a hotel room this morning. After the autopsy the suspect of a drug overdose has been confirmed. I couldn't find anything that would indicate outside influence."

The small smile that had spread over Sherlocks face because he was excited about a new case dropped. This was not what he was hoping for. But now that he was here he could as well take a closer look at the body.

He bend down to examine the body, but as Molly had stated there was nothing special about the corpse. He let out a sigh, this was not even worth leaving the apartment.

„Do you know why Lestrade sent me here to see a Junkie who has given himself the golden shot? There is hundreds of cases like this every year." Sherlock asked Molly while removing the disposable gloves.

„No, I actually…" She couldn't even finish her sentence because the negative answer was enough for the detective. He turned around on his heels and rushed out of the morgue. He was definitely not pleased with the result of his visit. John quickly followed him after thanking Molly for her time. „You can't just leave like that just because you didn't get what you want. That's not Molly's fault, you know. She can't always present you a mystery just to get you satisfied." John decided to shut up because he knew Sherlock was not hearing a word he was saying. He could talk to a stone right know and the outcome would be the same. Sherlock was eagerly typing on his phone. John was sure he was just about to inform Lestrade about his frustration about this boring case.

Why send me to see a dead junkie? -SH

The emergency call came from a women who kept saying „What have I done?". Potential murder. Hoped you would find something. -GL

Do you have the women?- SH

That's the problem…was gone when we arrived at the hotel. -GL

Find the women.I don't believe it was murder. And don't bother me with boring cases- SH

„Not going to leave Baker Street until we have a definite is everybody always wasting my time?" muttered Sherlock while hiring a cab to Baker Street.

The car journey was quiet. Sherlock kept staring out of the window and sometimes John could hear him grumble something like „Boring",„Not Worth my Time". He was not looking forward for the rest of the afternoon with a sulky Sherlock.

As expected the afternoon was a real torture for John. The first half hour Sherlock spent pacing and complaining that no one has committed an more mysterious crime. In the meantime John tried desperately to find a case to keep Sherlock busy because his mood really started to annoy him.

After a while Mrs Hudson appeared in the doorframe „There is somebody who wants to see you, boys." John looked up from his computer screen and instantly hoped that this case could interest Sherlock. „Send the client up." John said to Mrs Hudson who was already on her way to get their client.

A few seconds later a petite brunette women carefully entered the room. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, her skin sallow and her hair dull and put together messily. She stopped in the doorframe as if she was not sure if she really wanted to enter.

John walked over to her reaching out to shake her hand. „Hello. My name is John Watson and this," he pointed at Sherlock, who was occupied with one of his experiments, not willing to stop what he was doing until he knew if the presented case would be interesting enough. „Is Sherlock Holmes. Take a seat and then tell us how we can help you."

The women took a short glance at the detective and then looking at the floor again. John led her to the couch and she took a seat. John seated himself across from her in his armchair while Sherlock was busy in the kitchen. The women sat there in silence for a moment looking nervously at John. „So?" he tried to encourage her to speak. She swallowed heavily and then began to speak „I don't really know where to start. I just…I really didn't know where to go. What happened is just so…. and I couldn't bring myself to go to the police even if it would be the right thing to do. Then I remembered this article about Mr Holmes and I hoped you could help me." she stumbled while looking at her chipped fingernails.

„But to help you we have to know what happened. Just start at the beginning."John smiled encouraging at the visibly nervous and frightened women.

She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

„ My boyfriend an I where at this hotel yesterday and…"before she could go on Sherlock interrupted her.

„ And then your boyfriend, who was obviously a junkie just like you, took a overdose. Or no, you seem to blame yourself so he must have asked you to inject him the drugs and when he wasn't moving anymore you panicked and called the emergency call but then you thought they would accuse you of killing him and you ran away." Sherlock deducted. He was not even looking up from his experiment.

„Am I right?" he asked. The women looked at him in shock and then tears stared falling down on her cheeks. Sherlock looked at her quickly and then back at his experiment. „I am." he said pleased with himself.

„But…how?" The women asked with a trembling voice.

„Easy. Your hands are shaking the whole time, clear sing for some kind of dependence. Along with your poor appearance and your constant pulling down your sleeves to cover up the marks of the injections I assume it's heroin. The ring on your finger. It must have been given to you by somebody you love, but every time you touch it you wince unconsciously, so something must have happened to the person who gave it to you. You talked about a boyfriend, a hotel room and going to the police, so you must have committed something that you think needs to be reported to the police. Have I got anything wrong?"

„He wanted me to inject the drugs because he couldn't find a vein but I refused to because he was very weak but then he just did it himself. I just didn't stop him. I was so high myself I did not recognize how bad it was. When I finally realized it was to late…"she broke off. Tears streaming down her face. „I did kill him. I should have stopped him and now he is…dead." Again she couldn't speak on. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. John gave her a tissue which she thankfully took.

„But how can we help you then? We normally solve crimes, but you don't have a case to solve." John asked friendly.

„I just…I was afraid and I needed someone." Then she looked over to the detective, who was still not paying any attention to what was happening in the living room, even when he deducted her he only looked at her briefly.

„You don't recognize me, do you?" she asked the detective directly with a weak voice. „Look at me …"

Now Sherlock looked at her directly. Not like before when he just scanned her for some evidence of his theory but really looked at her.

Now he saw what he ignored before. He saw the familiar features. He saw the hazel eyes which used to full of joy but were now cold and empty.

Sherlock was shocked. He had not seen this women in more than ten years and seeing her now brought back so many memories.

He realized that he has been staring at her for a couple of minutes not knowing what to say. The only thing he could say was the name of the women that he had banned from his mind for what seemed like forever.

„Poppy."


	2. Chapter 2

I don't own the characters of the BBC show Sherlock.

Chapter 2

„Poppy." His voice was nothing more than a whisper when he spoke her name.

„Sherlock." She looked him directly in the eyes and gave him a sad smile as more tears started to built up in her eyes. She quickly looked away. She could not stand him looking at her like this. His glaze was full of pain, surprise and pity.

Poppy felt the strong urge to run away. How could she be so stupid to believe that he would help her after all this years.

„Maybe this was a stupid idea….you can't help me." She said and got up already.

„No. I promised you long ago that I would always protect you and I keep my promises." Sherlock said, his eyes still fixed on her.

„You had to break your promise over ten years ago.I'm not mad about it but you don't need to protect me now. I didn't know what I was doing. I'm sorry I wasted your time." Poppy said. This time her voice was stronger but she still seemed sad and hurt. The room was silent for a moment.

„I understand nothing. Whats going on?" John asked.

„I think you need to go home to Mary. She is probably already waiting for you." Sherlock said without looking at him.

„I think she will understand." John said.

„You. Leave. Now." Sherlock commanded. John looked at him in shock but did as he was told because he knew discussing with Sherlock would not help him now. „Night." he said as he left. Poppy also wanted to leave but when she started to move towards the door Sherlock almost screamed „ ."

It made her jump a little. The anger in his voice frightened her. She stood there in shock not able to move any further. „Sorry." Sherlock said a little softer after few moments.

She looked up shyly just to find his eyes looking directly in her own. He pointed at the couch she had sat on before and Poppy took a seat again. Sherlock now sat across from her in his armchair.

„Now tell me." Sherlock said simply.

„What do you want to hear Sherlock? I think you already know what you want to know. Obviously I'm not clean. I wasn't as strong as you. I couldn't stay away from that stuff."

„Bad excuse. I know you are strong." he sad coldly.

„I had bad friends."

„Excuse."

„It's hard. You know how hard it is."

„Excuse."

„I tried." She cried out. „Ben, that is my boyfriend…." She paused for a moment. „was my boyfriend." she corrected herself quickly. „We tried it so often, but it wouldn't last for long. One would always have a relapse and then pulling the other down as well."

She felt miserable talking about her stupid life. She hated it so badly. She hated the drugs, she hated that she needs them but mostly she hated herself. She could have stopped Ben. If she only would have been stronger he would be alive now. Tears were falling down her cheeks and she couldn't stop them.

Sherlock watched her. He didn't know what to feel. So much time had passed since he last saw her. Ten years, two month and six days, to be precise. But seeing her now so close to him again made it feel like it was yesterday. He had tried to delete all memories of this time or at least he had but them into room with a huge lock in his mind palace.

He looked at the small women crying her heart out and had no idea what he should do now. He was never clueless. He always had a plan, but no in this moment, his mind was blank. He could think of nothing but of the time when he was in her place and she had tried to convince him that hey needed to become clean. She had been there for him in a really dark hour of his life and now he had to do that for her. If it wasn't for her he probably wouldn't be here now.

„Ben is gone. My parents shut me out a long time ago.I have nobody. I scared them all away." she whispered.

„You still have me." ,he said, „I'm going to be there for you."

This simple sentence tipped Poppy over the edge. More tears streamed down her face and she started sobbing again.

Sherlock had no idea how to handle crying people but he got up and went over to the couch. He sat down beside her and put his arm carefully around her. Poppy first stiffed at his touch but quickly realized that that was all she needed for now. She needed somebody to simply hold her. She needed him to hold her from falling apart. She then turned her body towards his and put her arms around his chest. First Sherlock didn't move but then he put his other arm around her tiny body and fastened the hug. They didn't move or speak but just sat there holding on to each other. Sherlock felt that Poppy slowly relaxed, her breathing became calmer and the tears stopped.

Poppy wanted to thank him, wanted to explain everything but she didn't know what to say so she just sat there in silence holding on to man she used to know so well. She slowly felt very tired. Sherlock noticed it as well and slowly loosened the hug. „Sherlock…I…" she started but Sherlock cut her off softly. „I know but we can talk about it tomorrow. You should get some rest now.". He got up and Poppy laid down on the couch and as soon as her head hit the pillow she started to doze. Sherlock put a blanket over her body. „Thank you." she mumbled but it was not only for giving him a cover but for everything he had done for her.

Sherlock looked at her sleeping, still in disbelieve that she had appeared in his life again. He was not completely sure how he felt about it but one thing he knew. He needed to find a way to help her. Sherlock wouldn't sleep tonight, because he would be busy thinking of a plan.


End file.
